


21 Shots

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: College Student Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, Wingman Phichit Chulanont, we find out how Yuuri can poledance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: AU where everything is the same, but Phichit is old enough to be present for  Yuuri's 21st birthday.Phichit is the best friend and best party planner. The day begins with pancakes and ends with poledancing.





	21 Shots

“Happy birthday!” Yuuri’s twin mattress sunk as Phichit jumped onto it. Yuuri made some inhuman noises, pushing him away without opening his eyes. “Come on Yuuri! It’s your birthday!” Phichit sing-sang, focusing his phone camera on Yuuri’s face.

“Ugh. What time is it?” Yuuri groaned, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Midnight!  On your birthday!”

“Oh. Goodnight.” Yuuri mumbled, rolling over, even though Phichit’s knees pressed into his back. Phichit stopped the video and dropped his hands to his lap.

“Yuuri, you’re no fun.”

“I’ll be fun in 8 hours.” He grumbled, flopping an arm  over his face.

The campus had been empty for the past week or so, the majority of the student body flying home for Thanksgiving Break. It was something all American’s did, apparently, making any other flights  too expensive for the two international students.   The road trip to Skate Canada had been enough for everyone’s bank account, even though Celestino had used his own decade-old car to drive his students over. The week and a half break was welcome, especially for Yuuri, who missed  being able to function without  a 4 shot  cappuccino every three hours.

“Don’t you want to talk to your parents?” Phichit offered. Sleep was  still out of reach for the Thai skater.

“My birthdays already over in Japan.” Yuuri mumbled.

“Not in Russia!” Phichit sang, reaching over and smoothing down one of the corners of Yuuri’s posters. He snickered at the weak slap at his side, retreating to his side of the dorm room.

“I’ll give you 8 hours, birthday boy.”

The 8 hours ended up being 11, Phichit falling asleep with his laptop on his stomach, watching  the entire playlist of the Youtuber who made miniature pancakes and furniture for her hamster. Phichit treated Yuuri to  brunch at Denny’s, splurging for the happy-face fruit pancake off of the kids menu. Yuuri went along with it, even with a little red on his cheeks.

“Here’s your present.” Phichit said, pulling the wrapped package  out of his school messenger bag. He folded his hands, smiling proudly, as Yuuri peeled off the bubble wrap envelope.

“Oh wow,” He stared wide-eyed at the Thai  sports magazine.  “Thank you Phichit.” He said, never tearing his eyes off the man on the front cover.

“Smile!” Yuuri automatically posed, holding up the magazine and smiling sweetly.

“Part two, I got us out of practice tomorrow!” Phichit wiggled excitedly, almost knocking over his orange juice.

“Why?” Yuuri looked vaguely disappointed.

“Because we’re going to get WASTED!” Phichit grinned.

“I don’t want to be a waste, though.” Yuuri looked confused. Phichit was always learning new slang at the student center on youtube, and it was not the first time something was flying over his head.

“We’re going to get drunk, Yuuri. You’re 21, which is a big deal in America.” Phichit said pointedly.

“But I could drink last year in Japan. And you’re not 21 yet.” Yuuri poked at the bacon slice that had formed the smile on his breakfast.

“In some cultures, I am, and in America, I can totally be.” Phichit pulled out the ID card he had found on the internet. It would have been easier to get it through someone at the Uni. But for some reason, international cards were harder to fake.

“Phichit!” Yuuri paled, hunching over. “Isn’t that breaking  the law?”

“Which is why I waited for you to turn 21.” Phichit shrugged. “It’s only a few months until my birthday, but that’s finals week, and we need to celebrate.”

“If you get deported your hamsters aren’t going to get organic carrots anymore.” Yuuri said darkly.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take for my best friend.” Phichit smiled brightly.

~

“You aren’t going  outside like that, are you?” Phichit said with genuine concern.

“Like what?” Yuuri looked up from his Michigan State sweatpants and hoodie up to his roommate.

“Like.. that.” Phichit repeated, pointing at his clothes.

“You were wearing flip flops and shorts until a week ago! At least I look like everyone else here.”

“If your friend jumped off a bridge into a onesie and ugg boots, would you do it to?”

“I don’t understand you, again.” Yuuri whined. “What do I wear, then?” His parents had bought him an entirely new wardrobe in Fukuoka before he left, fearing that nothing in America would fit.

Phichit pulled open the university-issued drawer set, shuffling through the tangled mess of clothes.

He tossed a few choice pieces of clothing, moving to the closet to the few items they owned that required ironing, and therefore usually stayed on a hanger unworn. Yuuri ended up pulling on the sole pair of dark wash jeans he owned and a white shirt, with a dark blue sweater he swore he had never seen before.

“Much better.” Phichit said, staring at Yuuri with his fingers tapping his chin thoughtfully. “But somethings missing.”

“I don’t know what..” Yuuri said warily, tugging the t-shirt over his head. Phichit dove for his shower basket, pulling out the tub of hair wax. He plopped onto Yuuri’s bed, staring intently into his eyes.

“Phichit?” Yuuri squeaked, squinting his eyes closed as Phichit dipped his fingers and tugged then vigorously through  Yuuri’s hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. “What are you doing to me?”

“Making you even hotter.” Phichit said without hesitation, proud of his decision. One walk through Red Square and Yuuri would have men and women falling after him.

“I thought we were going drinking.” Yuuri didn’t dare touch his hair, staring at his not-reflection through his phone camera.

“Oh,” Phichit rubbed his hands together. “We are.”

~~

“Are you sure this is alcohol?”  Yuuri pushed the straw around, making the ice clink and twirl in the glass. “It’s pretty good…”  He remembered the last time he had alcohol, during the street festival in  Hasetsu. Ceremonial  sake and college-town liquor were worlds apart, however.

“Yes, Yuuri, it’s alcohol. Just cause it’s called Long Island Ice Tea doesn’t mean it has tea in it.”

“It doesn’t taste like tea at all.” Yuuri sucked up half the glass easily. “Six dollars is a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it, my friend. “ Phichit pulled another trick out of his bag, plopping the floppy and quite honestly ugly ‘It’s my 21st’ birthday hat onto Yuuri’s head. “I’ve got you covered.”

It took less than five minutes until a classmate from their Philosophy class showed up, and started Yuuri on a third Long island ice tea.  More shots showed up after the ‘tea’ took full affect. Yuuri high-fived every bar patron, even the wooden bear statue in the corner of the bar.

“Whash that? Bosuton tea?” Yuuri dragged a shot that was literally on fire closer to him. A few frat boys whooped.

“Flaming Orgasm from a friend down there.” The bartender said. Phichit grabbed Yuuri before he put his whole face into the flaming Vodka, blowing it out in time for  Yuuri to take the entire shot glass and flop backward, drinking it with no hands.

“Wow,” Yuuri said, spitting the glass back onto the table. “That was aru..al..alkuh.. aru…kooru…”

“Save some room for your favorite drink ever, my Yuuri!” Phichit cheered. “Thomas, a White Russian please!” He banged his palm on the bar counter, immensely proud of himself.

“I like… Russians...” Yuuri said slowly, his accent slowly leaking into his English.

“That, is a total surprise, to everyone, especially  to people who live with you.” Phichit shook his head, chewing on  a cherry stem from a long-finished Sex  On the Beach. He had done research, but nothing had prepared him for the fun  drink names out on the town.

“I’ve liked Viktor since I was like… ten.” Yuuri gave Phichit a look. “If it’s a surprise, then  I am worry.”

“Me too. Me too.” Phichit took the cherry stem out of his mouth and looked at his phone. The alarm he had set that morning was going off. Time for the next round.

“C’mon, my man.” Phichit said, grabbing Yuuri around the waist. It took them  five minutes to high-five the rest of the bar on the way out.

“Why are we leaving?” Yuuri said softly, following Phichit like a  little duckling. “That was fun.” He stared back at the generic sports bar as if it was an old home. Phichit had to pull him onto the bus downtown when it pulled up. He tapped both of their transit cards on their readers, as Yuuri stared starry-eyed at the  glowing traffic lights ahead.

“What’s happening?” Yuuri said once they sat down on a seat with ugly 90’s style fabric.

“We’re going to Gigi’s.” Phichit said proudly.  He had worried about getting Yuuri to this point, but it had worked out more smoothly than planned.

“I don’t want to go to my grandfathers.” Yuuri sounded sad, completely missing how impossible it would be to ride a bus from Detroit, across the ocean to Japan.

“No. Gigi’s.” Phichit whispered, leaning into  Yuuri’s ear. “It’s a gay bar.”

“But bars can’t date…” Yuuri met eyes with Phichit, and looked  lost as his friend giggled.

“No, but you can. And if theres anywhere we can find a tall, silvery-blond hottie, it is America.”

“Or Russia.” Yuuri muttered, looking up for a bus selfie with his friend.

“Which is why you need practice before you meet him.” Phichit sent out the pic on snapchat.

“Practice with what? You canceled practice.”  The movement on the bus was starting to  make Yuuri sleepy. Phichit didn’t manage an answer, waiting until  it was time to press the button for the next stop.

“Oh.” Yuuri said softly, staring at the crowd in the bar. “That’s a woman.”

“No, Yuuri, that’s a drag queen.”

“Oh, so a queen?” Yuuri sounded in awe. “There are a lot of Queens. I thought America had presidents.”

“Yeah, like forty. But drag queens are men.”

“Wow. The makeup is so good. It must have taken forever.”  Phichit took Yuuri’s arm, pulling him along to a chair at the bar.

“Why are there poles? Is the ceiling coming down?” Yuuri spun around in the chair, staring at the ceiling.

Yuuri got a glass of water to start out with. Phichit told him to stay put, disappearing to a dark corner of the bar.

“Hey, my name is Josh, what’s yours cutie?” A voice came from Yuuri’s free side, and he turned around.

“Yuuri Katsuki from Japan.” Yuuri stared up at the man leaning against the bar. He had dark, short hair and green eyes,  and a very tiny tank top. Thankfully, the ugly hat had disappeared somewhere between the sports bar and downtown.

“Wow, I’ve never been to Japan. I’d love you to show me.” Josh winked, and Yuuri smiled.

“Maybe, but it is too expensive right now.” He took another brightly colored drink and set his lips on the edge of the glass.

“I wonder if we can make a deal then, Yuuri.” Josh said, sitting down next to him.

“Okay. Can you tell me why there are so many poles?”  Yuuri pointed to the set in the back of the room.

“Oh, honey, I can do more than show you. I can teach you. Come on.” He took Yuuri’s hand in his and led him to the back room.

Phichit returned a few minutes later, staring at the empty chair. “Yuuri!  Yuuuri!” He called out, before he heard applause.  The nights earlier experience told him that Yuuri was most likely involved in some way.

“Oh my god, Yuuri.” Phichit’s  hands smacked against his cheeks. He had seen Yuuri practice, but hanging upside down from a pole with only his legs was new. “Where did your pants go?”

Yuuri lifted his head out of Josh’s hands. “Oh, hi Phichit. Look what I learned.” He smiled brightly, letting  Josh’s friend gently guide his leg out into a straight line. His cheeks flushed with the alcohol and rush of blood to his head. His shirt eventually joined his pants, and by last call Yuuri had mastered the spin.

“Oh, fanshee.” Yuuri garbled, tumbling into one of the taxis lined up on the curb. “Can we go to Jack in the Box?” His voice rose, the man not moving when his sweater was thrown onto his face.

“No, we go home,” Phichit hiccupped. “And we order pizza, and we  don’t puke.” Phichit sounded like he was on a mission. The night ended with only two of those things happening.

“Yuuri?” Phichit said, when the 2 pm sunshine poured through their shared window. “Are you alive?” He croaked.

“I don’t want to be.” Yuuri said into his pillow.


End file.
